Hermione's Secret
by webmeister
Summary: Hermione finds a mysterious ring that gives her special powers. She falls under its spell and doesn't realize the danger she is in when she wears it, but Ron does. And he'll do whatever it takes to save her.
1. Running Away From Home

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe and all of its characters belong to JKR (no matter what WB says). This story was written for fun, not profit. As for the Ring of Power - I owe many thanks to JRR Tolkien for that and a few other things too. (Like hundreds of hours of fun and adventure!)

**Hermione's Secret**

**A Fanfic by Webmeister**

**chapter 1 - Running Away From Home**

Hermione pedalled faster. It felt good to push her body so hard. Her mind got plenty of exercise, but her body was thin and pale. Though her lungs caught fire, Hermione ignored the pain and concentrated on the rhythm of the bike. For once logic couldn't help her. She was running away.

Earlier that morning she had wandered around her room, brushing her hands across the smooth, white surface of her new dresser, noting the delicate, pink rosebuds painted on the enamel knobs, and its gently curved legs. She stared blankly at the fluttering curtains on her new canopy bed, a fairy's dream compared to the sturdy Hogwarts' beds with their shabby velvet curtains. Her parents had redone her room as a surprise for her when she arrived home from Hogwarts. It was lovely, really. Just as she had described it to them - two years earlier.

Looking around at the soft, pastel prints on the walls, and her collection of stuffed animals cuddling on the bed, Hermione sighed loudly. "If it is just what I wanted, then why do I hate it?" she asked herself.

"Because it isn't you anymore," answered a voice in her mind. And it was right. She had a mad urge to charm the walls an electric shade of blue. With bright orange splashes. No. Not orange. Yellow perhaps.

And it wasn't just her room. It was everything. Hermione knew her parents wanted to believe that Hermione was just going through a particularly virulent form of adolescence. She caught them sneakily reading self-help books behind the _**Times**_: _How to Talk So Kids Will Listen_, and _Your Teenage Witch_: _Adolescence or Possession - 10 sure ways to Tell the Difference. _ It was lonely for Hermione. No matter how much she loved her parents, they were still Muggles and they couldn't quite grasp what a wizard like Voldemort could do.

That first night home, when the memories of the Triwizard Tournament and Harry's sudden reappearance with Cedric's body were still fresh in her mind, she tried to talk to her mum and dad about Voldemort. "Your safe now, darling." said her father. As if any place could be immune from such an evil as Voldemort. Even Hogwarts had been penetrated, and if that could happen, nowhere was truly safe. Not even the suburbs.

So Hermione had taken to riding her bike at a furious pace through her neighbourhood towards the outskirts of town. She liked to find quiet country lanes to explore. It was hard work bumping up and down the narrow ruts, and more than once she was bucked off her bike and tossed in a heap in the mud. But riding her bike helped her stay focused, and sane.

The threat of Voldemort hung over her constantly. Her parents had cancelled Hermione's subscription to the _Daily Prophet_, claiming that it was too costly. Hermione knew the real reason was because the growing panic in the wizard world was beginning to become apparent in the _Prophet's_ headlines. Voldemort had yet to strike, but his poison was spreading all the same. Accusations against wizards suspected to be Death Eaters appeared in the paper daily. Scandal after scandal hit the Ministry of Magic and it was obvious to Hermione that Cornelius Fudge was unable to respond to the pandemic of fear. Reading his quotes had Hermione gnashing her teeth in frustration. "The rumour that You-Know-Who is back is ridiculous. The death of Cedric Digory was unfortunate, but it was an accident. Umm. Got a nasty bump on the head. Boy will be boys, and all that." What _that_ was supposed to mean. Hermione wasn't sure, but the Minister's vague comments only encouraged speculation. The nervous tick he had developed didn't add to his position either.

Fear. Hermione's parents could read it between the lines of the Daily Prophet, and that was the real reason they cancelled her subscription. Then their Pandoronic Radio disappeared. Her mother and father insisted they didn't know what happened to it, but it was obvious they were lying. Even the Wizard's Wireless had started to broadcast You-Know-Who sightings. That was the last straw.

"You can't pretend that this isn't happening! Please, I know that you love me. I can understand that you are worried about me, but acting as if all this is just a bad dream is not going to make it go away. I've told you about You-Know-Who. You've seen Harry's scar. You know what I've told you it is true. Why can' t we talk about it?" she pleaded.

Her mother burst into tears and ran from the room. Hermione's father exploded. "You aren't really one of them. Why can't you just forget it! Your mother hardly sleeps at night, worrying about what will happen to you. That You-Know-Who isn't our problem, Hermione. Just let it go!"

She stared in shock at her father's amazing feat of transformation: from loving father to total stranger in just a matter of moments. The urge to lash out in anger frightened her. Her parent's had always preached non-violence, and practiced it was well, but just then she wanted to slap her father's red, furious face. Forget Ron? And Harry? Forget Cedric Digory? Never! Rather than give in to her angry impulse she dashed from the room and slammed out the door, leaving her father standing alone in their living room staring blankly at the closed door

A particularly large bump sent the bike into a shaky dance that almost tumbled Hermione into a ditch full of muddy, black water. She took a firmer grip and steered carefully back onto the narrow path leading through a small patch of woods. She blinked back tears as she thought about her parents. They couldn't accept the fact that she wasn't a child who needed to be sheltered from life's harsh truths anymore. Maybe she should have told them more about what went on at Hogwarts than just the classes and the library. Well, she wasn't a little girl any longer. It was time they learned that.

It seemed lately as if everyone expected something of her. Professor McGonagall had sent her an owl with several extra homework assignments to do over the summer, so as not to "waste a brain such as yours on frivolous activities." And Viktor. Viktor was sweet, but he seemed to imagine her as some kind of delicate young lady and his knight errant routine was beginning to chafe. It wasn't just her blouses she had outgrown this summer, it was her skin too. A chrysalis was a safe place to grow but it was still a prison, and she was ready to break free.


	2. The Well

**Chapter 2 - The Well**

Hermione was feeling quite pleased with her new attitude, but a nasty thought interrupted. A certain red-headed, foul-mouthed, obnoxious thought. Ron. It was so much easier to just pretend that nothing was going on. Just thinking his name made her blood pressure rise. The bike's pedals began to spin faster and faster and Hermione's hair fluttered out behind her, beneath her sensible bike helmet.

"That... that... idiot! That insufferable, cretinous... After all his ridiculous behavior with Viktor, things had been strained enough between them. In the past, Harry always managed to unite them in a single purpose; and Cedric's death had seemed to put their relationship on a different level, but it hadn't taken Ron long to spoil that.

The one time she, Harry, and Ron had arranged to meet, Ron had gone and spoiled the whole day. She had been looking forward to it for weeks. Since Harry was going away with Sirius for a the rest of the summer, it was her last chance to see him until September. Professor Dumbledore said that Harry would be as safe as he could be with his godfather. He believed it was important that Harry study under Sirius, who was a Phoenix level Mahoutsukaido master, an expert in an Eastern form of wizarding self-defense. Ron had been jealous, as usual.

So, they had arranged by owlpost to meet at a place close to the Dursley's house. Harry planned to sneak away while the Dursleys were spending the day on the beach. Ron had several comments to make about what Dudley would look like on the beach in his letter, but then he always had something rude and sarcastic to say. Jerk. Hermione had arrived at the Beak and Claw wearing a bright tank top with a sparkling butterfly on the front, and jean shorts. She had put her hair in a ponytail, and had even taken the time to put on a bit of lip gloss - which was only sensible because it had sunscreen in it.

Hermione's face burnt with remembered humiliation. She had locked up her bike, and climbed onto the patio where Ron and Harry were waiting. Harry had grinned and raised his glass in a salute, but Ron hadn't move a muscle. He just stared at her. Stared right at her chest as if he had never seen a pair of... a pair of wings before. Well, maybe he hadn't, really. But that didn't excuse his rude behavior. Hermione sat down on the far side of the table and crossed her arms across her chest. Until Harry had given him a sharp kick in the shins, Ron hadn't been able to look away. It was awful. She gave Harry a quick hug, and kiss good- bye and ran for her bicycle. Ron never said a thing.

Tears flew down Hermione's cheeks. Tears of embarrassment she told herself. But it was more than that.

"_Never mind my friendship, my loyalty, my brains, or the way I've stood by them through danger and punishments_," she thought. "_Apparently, all I needed to get his attention was a pair of_...AHHH!"

Hermione's wheel hit a tree root and stopped dead. She flew over the handlebars and somersaulted onto a grassy patch beside the trail. She lay stunned for a few moments, gasping for her stolen breath . Overhead, the sun was dazzling and the sky was an ocean her thoughts began to drift upon. Hermione the little girl, Hermione the brain, Hermione the teenager. "Hermione Granger who are you?" The question floated through her mind, and echoed back.

A bird's song brought her thoughts back into focus. She reached up to unsnap her helmet, and pulled it off with both hands. She didn't get up though, despite the realization that the ground was actually a bit damp, and a sharp twig was poking into her back. The song was enchanting. It soothed Hermione's nerves. She slowly sat up and took a good look around her. A tiny brown bird sat on a low branch of an oak tree. It tipped its small head to one side and let out a beautiful trill. Standing up stiffly, Hermione brushed some dirt from the seat of her shorts, and walked towards the thrush.

She was surprised when it darted away. It seemed so friendly. For some reason she thought it would have let her reach up to stroke its delicate feathers. She followed it further into the trees. A few minutes later, Hermione stepped into a clearing. In its centre was a ring of stones. Not standing stones, but almost like a ring of stones from some forgotten campfire. As she drew closer and stood overlooking them, Hermione realized that she was peering down into an old well. The mossy green rock reached down far into the earth until it touched a still, dark sheet of water at the bottom.

She dropped to her knees and stared down into the well at the silent pool below. She gripped the edges of the well carefully, sat up on her knees, and leaned over to get a better look. Her hair fell in front of her face, and she tucked it behind her ear. Suddenly, a soft "Splash," startled her. Hermione stared down, watching the water ripple out in ever growing circles.

"I guess I dislodged a little stone," she said aloud. Her heart was still pounding, but she forced a smile at her reaction.

A ray of sunshine slipped through the trees and caught the pool at just the right angle. For a moment Hermione could see her pale face reflected in the water. Hermione stared down at her image, at her watery twin, and felt an ache in her throat. She wanted to hurl something into the face that stared back at her.

"Oh why can't I... I just wish I could be someone, or something else. Someone special," she sobbed quietly. It was so difficult to explain. She just knew that deep inside her she was more. More than what people saw. Everyone knew Harry was special. She didn't begrudge him that. It wasn't even that she envied him, but for once she wished that someone would recognize that there was something about her. That she was more than just a body or a brain. 


	3. Caught in the Act

**Chapter 3 - Caught in the Act**

The image in the well faded away as a cloud drifted across the sun. She sighed and got to her feet. Her knees were stained green from kneeling in the grass, and bits of dried, dead grass clung to them. She leaned over to brush them off when something sparkled in the grass. She pushed aside the blades of grass and gently picked up the object that had caught the sunlight, and her eye. It was a ring. The band was made of thin plain gold. At least, she thought it was real gold. Its weight felt right in the palm of her hand, and it had a rich inner glow that gold plating couldn't seem to imitate.

She held it between her thumb and index finger, looking for an inscription, but there was nothing. Not even a mark to say how many carats it had. She slipped the ring onto the index finger on her right hand. It fit snuggly, so she shifted it to her other hand. There it fit perfectly.

For a moment she admired the way it looked, then she checked the time on her watch. Three hours had passed since she left the house. Her parents would be worried, she thought guiltily. Really, she couldn't blame them for that. And they didn't even know the half of it. Perhaps she wasn't being completely fair to her mum and dad.

Pedalling quickly, she was soon back on a paved road, heading towards home. Several blocks from her house she stopped at a red light. Coming down the sidewalk to the left, a boy was walking with his face buried in a book. Hermione smiled. She sometimes did the same thing. When she had read _Hogwarts: A History_ for the first time, her father had threatened to have one of his doctor friends surgically remove the book from the end of her nose. Her grin faded when she thought of her father in happier times. Things had gotten so complicated since then.

Then, abruptly, time froze. From the corner of her eye she saw splash of red bouncing onto the street. Her breath caught. A little girl laughing loudly, ran after the ball with outstretched hands. Hermione screamed, but was soon drowned out by the sound of squealing tires. Down Hermione reached to grasp her wand. It was strapped to her bike where most people kept their water bottles.

"Expello!" she shouted, performing a banishing charm.. The little girl flew through the air onto the lawn, rolling a bit as she hit the grass. Her ball was a puddle of red under the car's wheel. All around her cars slammed on their brakes and people emerged from their cars waving cell phones and running towards the sobbing child sitting on the grass.

Hermione stood watching from the other side of the street. The girl was fine. She could hear her telling the newly arrived ambulance attendants to go away. It was obvious from their amazed cries that everyone thought the little girl had been struck by the car and tossed onto the side of the road. 

Relief that the little girl was okay (she could hear her demanding her ball back) gave way to the growing horror that she, Hermione Granger, had just broken a very serious wizarding law - the law that forbade underage wizards to cast spells while not in school. Even worse, she had done it right on the corner of a busy street. Thankfully, no one seemed to have noticed.

She turned her bike around to take a different route home and came face to face with a pair of round blue eyes. It was the boy with the book. The book lay at his feet now, face down on the cement, with pages bent underneath its weight.

"It was you," he whispered.

To Hermione it sounded like the final judgment. Reason fled. Her heart was doing its best to leap from her chest. She bolted. Running beside her bike, panting with fear, she put her left foot on the pedal and swung her body over the frame. Visions of hard-eyed Ministry owls chased her down the street. She kept her head down and pedalled harder. A quick glance over her shoulder told her that the stunned looking Muggle had broken out of his stupor and had begun to run after her. She should have realized that the tall young boy could never have caught up, but rational thought was impossible in the face of her fears. There was an odd ringing in her ears, then...

"Pop!" 

Hermione's bike hit the back of her father's car and she sailed, once again, over the handlebars and rolled across the trunk. With a dull "Thud" she hit the driveway of interlocking red stones and watched the world shrink to a pinprick of light before it faded to black.


End file.
